


Asshole-Millionaire

by totallyinnocent



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Boss/Employee Relationship, Crossdressing, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22268893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyinnocent/pseuds/totallyinnocent
Summary: Frank is an out of touch fashion designer in need of a model to properly showcase his designs, Gerard is conveniently attractive and surprisingly skilled in the matter. you get the rest...(In Progress)
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 175
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

“Shit,” he tosses the expertly shot photo aside, “Shit,” he tosses another, “Shit shit shit shit!” he roars, throwing the whole pile of gorgeously taken photos into the bin beside his desk. “They’re all shit! What do I pay you for?!” He screams at the man who brought him the photos.

The man lets out an irritated sigh, “Mr. Iero, I’m your assistant. I’m not paid to take the photos, I’m paid to bring them to you.”

Frank bunches his tattooed hands into his hair, “I know, Ray. I’m sorry. Can you tell the photographer her check will be in the mail? But also that her services aren’t needed here anymore.”

Ray gives a curt nod and struts out of the monochrome schemed office, scribbling notes onto his clipboard and talking into his earpiece.

“Oh, and Ray?” Ray spins on his heel to look at his boss, telling the person in his ear to hold. “Fire that model too, I don’t like how she wears my clothes.”

Ray catches himself about to protest, and follows his boss's orders without question, giving more commands into the headset.

Frank pushes his palms into his shut eyes, colors swirling beneath his eyelids. What is he going to do? He needs a new model and new photographer by the end of tomorrow or he’ll have no hope of turning in the photos for his new line into their magazine publisher. Sure, he has millions, maybe even billions, of dollars underneath his belt. Plus, the mass amounts of fame he’d accumulated in his short time of fame, but what about his employees? They had grown close (besides a select few) and he couldn’t bear for them all to lose their jobs at his company.

He needed a break. A lunch sounded nice. In public, without a shroud of security around him. Having some poor soul bring his lunch to him everyday sounded a bit too high-end for Frank’s liking. A lunch, Frank decided. A little sandwich shop down the block would be easy to get too and back.  _ Yeah, an hour for me,  _ Frank thought happily to himself. And that was that.

He fished a pair of sleek sunglasses from his drawer from his first ever clothing shoot. A summer line he’d done two years back, he was only 20 then. Dropped out of college and on his own. He’d found an opportunity, done some shady things, but nonetheless had made a name for himself. It was only small at the time, but his reputation grew rapidly after a few months. More offers rolled in, genuine offers. Offers that really liked his clothes, not ones that wanted dirty jobs done. It was refreshing for him.

Frank slid on the sunglasses and pulled an over sized hoodie over his pricey clothes, covering him up enough to look like an average civilian. When not focused on, his dress pants were tight enough and dark enough to look like a pair of jeans, but upon closer inspection, were nothing of the sort. He slinks out of his office and uses the speedy elevator to go down to the lobby where the main entrance was. Getting out of his office was no problem, it was getting out of the building that was the real feat.

Scoping out the exit from a couch used for guests waiting in the lobby, Frank saw a sort of pattern with the guard. Every time someone walked by he kept his eyes trained on them until they either reached the elevator or sat down on the couches after checking in with Lola, the receptionist. He waits for his break, that’s when a young woman in a tight pantsuit struts through the door, leaving the guards eyes on her. Leaping out of the couch at the opportunity, he slickly slides behind the decorative plants in the direction of the door, when a familiar voice fills his ears.

“Yeah, he’s not in there.” It’s Ray, talking to the guard. “I’m just a little…”

He trails off as the two make eye contact over the buff guard’s shoulder, having a mental conversation with just their eyes. It mainly consisted of Frank giving puppy dog eyes to Ray, praying he wouldn’t say anything. Ray breaks eye contact and gives a chipper smile back at the man.

“Actually,” he chuckles lightly, “I just remembered, he said something about a conference call, I’ll go ask him what he’d like for lunch. Hopefully, something  _ nearby and quick _ .” He strains the description, clearly knowing he won’t be able to cover for Frank for too long.

Frank takes Ray’s chattering as a chance to slip through the entrance, no doubt, the security camera would catch him, but no one would notice until by the time he was back in his office.

Taking in a deep breath of the dirty city pollution, a smile appears unwillingly across Frank’s half-sunglasses covered face. He jogs down the block to where he remembers a small sandwich shop by memory. All he finds in its place is a small coffee shop sparsely filled with customers. The pride in his chest remained, he got this far, going back now would cause extra work for Ray and leave him hungry for a longer period of time.

Not feeling so confident now, he meekly opens the shop door, trying to give his brain one last chance to tell him to go back. That backfires. A small bell ring fills the cafe, causing Frank to become the center of attention, and for the first time in his life, he’d give anything to be a nobody again.

Thankfully for Frank, no one recognizes him under the heavy concealing clothes, and all the recognition he gets is a warm welcome by the cheery staff. He takes a quick glance at the menu before deciding on one of the sugary specials they were offering. A petite woman with silvery blue hair takes his order.

“What’ll it be?”

“The Tuesday Special and a breakfast sandwich.” She taps the order into the ipad, nails clicking with every letter.

“Name?”

Right when Frank is going to respond, he retracts, worried it may cause remembrance of his status to these people. “Michael.”

Her face gives a flash of recognition, this wouldn’t be good. Had she seen through is disguise? Was she going to tell people? What was he going to tell Ray…? The thought made him self consciously pull his hood over his already concealed face.

“There’s a table for two waiting for you,” she beams.

Table for two, waiting for Frank? Why?

He doesn’t challenge her, for all he knew about this place, it could be common courtesy for them to offer a table with two seats to a lonely traveler. A small table in the back has a little piece of paper with the word “reserved” scrawled across in large cursive. This must be Ray’s doing, he probably figured Frank would come to eat in this chain and set up a reservation, but how did he get ‘Michael?’

A tall figure with long swishing black hair abruptly plops into the seat across from his, happily rambling, not noticing that the stranger wasn’t who he thought it was.

“Jeez, Mikes, I’m so tired. Thanks for meeting me here on such short notice, the job interview stress is making me act all sorts of fucked up. Some rich ass company got hold of me an hour ago and asked to ‘see my stuff in action,’ and I couldn’t tell ‘em to fuck off,  _ especially _ since the pay seemed pretty damn nice. They acted all concerned like ‘Oh, sorry to disturb you, but you should haul your ass across the city in an hour so we can interview you.’” He mocks in a high pitched voice.

What a rude business strategy, a small chuckle escaped Frank before he can think to keep quiet. The man noticed it. The man also noticed now how unlike-his-brother Frank looked, and immediately started rambling again, though, this time, in panic. He leaps out of his seat to let Frank have some personal space.

“Oh my god, wow, I’m an idiot. You’re obviously not my brother, what the hell is wrong with me. Jeez, I’m sorry- god, I’m an idiot.”

Desperate to have company that wasn’t after his money, Frank hastily began to blubber, “No way, dude, it’s not your fault.”  _ Dude _ sounded awkward coming out of his mouth, he made a mental note to not say that again. “There must’ve been a mix up, my name is F-”  **No** . “Michael. They must’ve thought I was your brother and apart of the reservation. I can-”

A barely audible buzz cuts Frank off, the man unlocks the culprit, his phone, to frown down at the message. “Damn, Mikey ain’t coming. That figures, it was short notice.”

“Er…” Frank knows he shouldn’t intrude, no matter how lonely. “Sorry to disturb you. I’ll just leave when my order comes- in fact, I’ll go right now,” Frank stumbles out of the chair, only for him to be stopped by a hand resting on his shoulder comfortingly.

“Please don’t go, it’ll be super awkward to have to sit at this reserved table on my own, especially since people have seen us together. They’ll get the wrong idea.”

The man was right about that. It wasn’t exactly that hard for anyone to notice, all around the slightly-more-crowded-than-when-Frank-had-arrived-only-a-couple-minutes-ago shop had people staring obviously, and others not so. You could argue they were making quite the scene.

“Uhm…” It’ll be only for ten minutes, tops, and help Frank fly under the radar. It wasn’t a difficult choice. “Sure, but I do need to get back to work soon.”

The man nodded understandingly, “Yeah, I’ve got that job interview.” He sticks out his hand, letting the other drop from Frank’s shoulder, “I’m Gerard by the way.”

Frank grins, “I’m not actually, Michael.” Why did he tell him that? He could be a stalker for all Frank knew about him, but there was something about him that didn’t give him that sense.

Gerard chuckled, sitting onto one of the two tall chairs, “I figured that those odds were pretty slim, but didn’t question it.”

In a slightly more awkward manner than Gerard, Frank hoists himself up onto the chair to face the sort-of stranger. “Well, call me Frank, then. Now, tell me more about that shitty job interview you’ve got going on.”

Gerard flips his hair out of his face, not realizing it, and lets out a heavy sigh. “Oh, honey, don’t get me started on that shit. They just decided out of nowhere that I should just drive for an hour to get to this place so they could decide if they liked me or not.”

“What’s the boss like?”

Gerard ponders this, “Heard he’s some sort of asshole millionaire. Y’know the ones who are always complaining and in a bad mood?”

Frank certainly did know about that, all those events and gatherings were just breeding grounds for arguments and petty fights, despite all his peers being mature adults.

“Worst of all, when they told me they wanted to ‘see me in action,’ they meant that I couldn’t bring a portfolio of already prepared shit I had ready for interviews like this.”

Frank tried to give a look of understanding, but couldn’t remember the last job interview he had. A self-made company doesn’t really make the  _ creator _ go through an interview, building the company was enough. “Yeah, that sucks man.”

A cute barista walks over in his tight black pants, showing off  _ all _ the right places. He sets the drinks and Frank’s food on the table and nonchalantly walks back to the drink making station, unaware of the effect he had on the two men.

“Hot damn, now  _ that's _ what I like to see,” Frank mutters.

Gerard was no better, “Shit, I’d let  _ him _ ‘see me in action’.”

The two make eye contact over the steaming coffee on the table, both realizing what they’d let slip.

“Oh, wow.”

“Um, there was-”

“Sorry, about that-”

"No, no, I just…”

They stared at each other, the coffee slowly getting colder. Frank removed his steam covered sunglasses to get a good look at Gerard.

The raven hair was messily framing his femininity brushed face, partially covering one of his hazel eyes. His lips were partially open on one side, most likely from years of smoking out of habit, letting his small teeth poke out. He had the nose structure that would make a pixie jealous, perking up slightly at the tip. His clothes were dark and tight, framing his beautifully built figure. This wasn’t Frank becoming  _ attracted _ to Gerard, this was him simply admiring the human body, something he often did as a designer.

Between the two boys, years must’ve passed for how long they stared, when it was more likely a few seconds. Despite both having completely shocked faces, they both broke out in laughter at the exact same moment, realizing what disasters they both were.

“I take it you’re as single and gay as I?” Frank queries.

“Indeed, thought not  _ as _ gay. Women could turn me out if they know what they’re doing, but for the most part, I’d say I’m a pretty hardcore homosexual,” he remarks.

Whatever the reason, whether it’s because they’ll most likely never see the other again or because they needed company, the two felt as comfortable as some old friends meeting up. It was all over too fast, suddenly, Frank realized how long he’d been gone, and Gerard noticed how close his meeting was.

“Really, it was so nice talking to you, Gerard, but I should get back to work,” Frank apologized.

Gerard smiled, “No worries, I should probably go get what I need from my car for the interview.”

They both had reason to go, but couldn’t seem to stand up and go through with it. Mutually they both felt as though they’d grown too much to just be able to leave.

“Meet me back here in an hour or so,” Gerard blurted.

Frank’s eyes lit up, “Yeah, of course!”

Frank actually had no idea how he’d make it back to the cafe, he had already used his lunch excuse, and no doubt had auditions for his new modeling opening, despite the short notice. Yet, he was willing to put it aside to meet with the stranger-no, the friend, if Gerard was willing to accept the title.

Gerard grinned ear to ear, “See ya’ later, Frank.”

Frank gave a small goodbye, with that and paying the attractive barista for his drink and food, he left to his building.

Now, you could give the excuse of Frank being so happy he forgot or being high of the rebellious feeling of leaving without security, but he did not put his sunglasses. He also did not notice the camera across the street taking his photos.

\---

As soon as Frank sat down at his desk on the very top floor, a sharp impact of a hand hit the back of his head.

“Are you fucking mental!? Did all those tight clothes finally cut off the circulation to your brain?!” Ray. “What the hell made you think for one fucking second, ‘hey, I should sneak out without telling anyone or having any security,’ because I’d really like to fucking know!”

Frank shrugs slightly, “I just wanted to be on my own…”

Ray groans exasperatedly, “Frank, there are  _ reasons _ you aren’t allowed out by yourself-” his eyes grow wide. “Did anyone talk to you?! Snap your picture?!”

“No, Ray, I’m not stupid enough to let people take my picture. Plus, I had my sunglasses on.” Ray’s face noticeably relaxes. “As for the talking to people part…”

Another whack on the head, “Dammit, Frank, that was probably an undercover reporter!”

“No, it wasn’t, everything was too coincidental-”

A soft knock on the office door stops their bickering, “Mr. Iero? Your applicants are here to see you…” a meek voice peeps. The audition supervisor.

Ray strides towards the door, looking back at Frank only to say, “Be careful,” before exiting to take care of other matters. At the departure of his assistant, Frank rips off his hoodie and straightens out his wrinkled attire, also making a point to flatten his hair.

He exists his office and follows the supervisor to the audition room, as though he hadn’t been there many times before. The job of the audition supervisor was to practically ‘babysit’ the candidates in the waiting room they’ve been directed to, instead of filling up the lobby. 

All that sits in the room is a table and chair for Frank and a large white sheet for the models and photographers. Normally, he’d have applicants send in their photos from previous works and modeling jobs, but it was different. He needed a new model  _ and _ photographer, so he’d have them work hand in hand, to see their skill, as well as their cooperation.

A small intercom and large check-in list sits on the table, Frank practically throws himself in the hair and buzzes the supervisor, “Hayley, send a pair in.”`

Only a minute passes when two serious looking women walk in through the door, one with a camera in hand, the other in loose clothing. He points to model to the changing room and the photographer to the camera stand.

In a flash, both women are set and ready for the shoot, they state their names and get the job done, moving seamlessly with each other.

This did not impress, Frank. All his career he’d seen models who did what they were told, photographers who got the right angles, but few of them had any passion or emotion in their work. Some argue he should let people submit their work and poses, so he could get feeling from practiced work. That’s not what Frank does. If they can’t show him their passion on the spot, they’re out.

He goes through applicant after applicant, only a mere few catching his eye. After the current pair finally walks out, Frank gives a sigh of relief. All they’d done was bicker and only given him mediocre photos at best. He reluctantly presses his hand on the intercom, knowing full well he’d been here almost two hours and no doubt missed Gerard at the coffee shop. “How many more?”

“Well, there’s been one here, who seems to be a photographer, but he didn’t bring a partner. He’s the last one,” she answers, unsure.

Applicants normally brought someone with them to show off their talent or met with one on short notice in the waiting room, this one must’ve not gotten the memo.

The sound of boots walking down the hall, getting closer and closer to the door brought Frank back to reality.  _ One more _ , he thought,  _ There’s just one more _ .

The door is pushed open right when Frank plasters a fake smile to his face, but there’s no need, since Frank was genuinely happy to see Gerard walk through the door. Both grin happily at the sight of each other, which slowly morphs into less positive emotions at the remembrance of their discussion in the coffee shop. “Asshole millionaire” and “haul your ass across the city” rang through Frank’s mind, the same for Gerard, though both for very different reasons.

“It was you…” Gerard asks in disbelief.

“It was me?” Frank questions in response.

They both stare at each other intently, wanting this to be some sort of sick joke.

Gerard break the silence, “Look, about what I said in the coffee shop-”

“No, no, I get it, it’s not the most efficient way to hire people. Even so, everyone that can will get here, hell- I’ve had people fly in from Japan to be here, and it was just posted an hour or two beforehand.”

The photographer furrows his brow, “But that’s literally impossible…”

Frank merely shrugs, “Like I said, they’ll get here.”

Gerard seems like he’s going to question further, but stops himself and brings their attention to the task at hand. “Where should I put my camera…”

Frank motions to the camera stand, the one used by all the photography candidates. There was something important missing, something he’d overlooked, Gerard didn’t have a model. After a quick mental face palm, Frank buzzes Hayley again.

“Frank, there aren’t anymore-”

“Can you send up one of our models?”

She sighs, “Frank, if we had any spares I would’ve sent one up with the man- I think his name was Gerard. None of them are here, they left after the shoot from earlier, which you seemed to hate immensely from what I’ve heard.”

Frank’s face heats up when he remembers Gerard was in the room, no doubt listening to Hayley, who confirmed Gerard’s suspicions of Frank being an ‘asshole millionaire.’

"R-Right, of course, I'll figure something out- Thank you."

The last statement hangs in the air, Frank had never once thanked her for her job- or anyone for that matter. "You're welcome, Frank..."

He lifts his finger of the button and sets his hands in his lap, mind pondering and alternative for the photographer. He could give him still life, but that is in no way the same thing as photographing a person, but then, an idea popped up in Frank's head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello frens, im still crying over the video. thanks for the support on these fics, it really does mean a lot to me!

Gerard stares through his camera lens, twisting and turning each knob, the white sheet filling his view. Right when he feels like the camera is ready, a blurry figure comes into view, disproving his confidence in the dials. As he turns the focus knob, a sculpted back comes into view through the lens. He zooms out, only for the figure to blur again. With more twisting and turning, a short slightly muscular man in tight black clothes fills his screen, back turned, face hidden. He was beautiful.

The clothes he wears are all black, bringing more attention to his fluffy brown hair. An undershirt sculpts his back blades and prominent arch, the same colored spandex pants curve around his calves and cheeky ass. He’s completely monochrome or so he thought, for when the figure turns around, his bright hazel eyes prove him wrong. The soft pink lips are given attention with the shiny glint of a lip ring, giving him a gorgeous rebel look.

Frank.

“O-oh, you look-” No, don’t compliment him, he’s your possible boss. “I mean, er- you’re my model…?”

Frank shrugged, the fabric shifting up over his stomach for a moment, revealing the traces of abs. It was nearly too much for the flustered photographer.

“I don’t do this often, so you definitely owe me a favor,” Frank laughs. In response, Gerard gives him an understanding nod.

Turning his attention back to his camera, Gerard admires the sculpted frontal features through the side screen. Once he remembers that this is an interview, not a strip cam, he motions for Frank to begin.

The way his arms and legs morph and sway remind Gerard of the feeling of expensive silk. He naturally holds his body for just enough time for you to get a picture, then morphs into the next. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a picture, but the true beauty of him is only locked somewhere in your memory.

Once Gerard had snapped a couple pictures, Frank stood in a relatively normal posture and stared at Gerard in disbelief. “Really?”

“What?”

Frank sighed, clearly annoyed, “Did you not read the brief?”

Brief? What brief? Gerard pondered this, but then remembered the email he was sent by the company. The email that he immediately trashed and didn’t look over. “Oh… yeah?”

“Clearly, you didn’t. If you had, then you would have noticed that all the poses I’m giving you are completely wrong for this shoot.”

Gerard’s heart stopped beating. Crap. He needed this job. The money he’d made from a previous commission wasn’t going to last him much longer with his rent on the way. “Erm, what was the theme again?”

“I’ll let it slide because you accompanied me too lunch, but if I do hire you, this can’t be a recurring thing.” Gerard gives him another understanding nod. “Most of the clothing lines I create are for the people in the world who don’t feel sexy, but want too. Mainly, there’s a lot of lingerie or skimpy wear that can compliment all feminine body types just so someone can  _ feel good _ about themselves.”

He spoke more passionately about his design than anything else in his life, besides his home state, of course.It was so mesmerizing that Gerard nearly forgot to actually pay attention to the large hint at the brief’s direction he was being given.

“Right, so, sexy?” his eyes asking for confirmation.

“Sexy.” He confirms.

At that, his mind begins racing at 100 miles per second, poses filling his mind for the singular outfit. Could he be so bold as too direct the model? Only one way to find out.

“Hey, um, Frank?” Frank hums in acknowledgement. “Could I make a suggestion for your pose?” The words tumble out of his mouth before he can overlook them.

Frank blinks in surprise, "Of course.”

Gerard stumbles out around the camera and guides Frank to the back of the sheet, then slightly presses him by the back against the wall. Frank’s body is shifted limb by limb by the perfectionist until deemed as good as it gets.

“Right, hold that pose.”

Throughout the whole dramatic photographing Gerard did, Frank only needed to stay in that one pose. He had just finished up when a loud bang of a door swinging filled the previously silent room. A distressed man stands in the doorway, clinging to the stitches in his side. The sitter comes bustling behind him, trotting along with her uncomfortable heels.

“Mr. Iero! I tried to tell him the auditions were over, but he-”

Frank merely raised a hand and shooed her off, but beckoned the wheezing man in. “So, you finished up Gerard, correct?” Gerard nodded, frantically, slightly alarmed by the new presence in the room. “Your name?”

“Bert, I’m here for the photography spot,” he gasps.

Frank then turns his attention back to Gerard, “Time to cash in my favor. You have an eye for modeling, so you should have no trouble with actually doing it. You will be considered for the photography position, but right now, we need to finish this up.”

He ushers Gerard into the changing room and shoves one of his designs into his arms, the same outfit all the other models wore, not the all black look Frank sported. Through the lush curtain covering him, Gerard could hear Frank giving Bert the same directions he had been given with his camera.

Gerard unwraps the colored sheet of plastic from around the material to reveal a skimpy two piece look. Now, Gerard has no problem with wearing female clothes, hell, he was wearing women’s underwear right now, but he did have a problem with wearing feminine clothes  _ in front _ of people. This outfit could be considered androgynous, yet still more simple than most of Frank’s designs. He didn’t want to overwhelm the newbies too much.

The top was a frilly laced cream-white blouse that exposed his midriff and collarbone, the neckline plunging so deep that the shirt was nearly a jacket. The long sleeved fabric bellowed around his arms as though there was an expertly timed gust of wind around him whenever he moved. A pair of tight booty short fell out from the bundle of the shirt, they fell onto the floor ass facing up towards Gerard, they read the words “Are You Nasty?” The shorts appeared to be elegant gym shorts, but sure felt a lot more expensive. Once he slid them on, his ass felt a lot more perky and tight, for once, Gerard felt confident.

He struts out from the room, still high off the ecstasy of being pretty. The camera is already set, practically begging for Gerard to pose in front of it, showing all the right angles and skin. Bert stares at the beautiful man, but quickly busies himself with adjusting the already perfectly set knobs. Frank, however, stares right at him. Not at his face, but his figure.

Gerard has a nice set of legs, slightly toned, but by no means muscular. His long dainty fingers matched the thin pair of arms swaying around in the sleeves of the blouse. The deep dive neckline showcased his pale chest, teasing any onlooker for a chance to see his nipple. He was teasing everyone in all types of body part kinks, a model for all people. He was perfect.

Gerard couldn’t see what Frank was thinking, instead, all he saw was the man checking him up and down. It threw off his confidence, just a bit… actually, a lot. His arms protectively snaked around his own figure under Frank’s gaze. Was he ugly? Was he wearing it wrong? Did he rip part of it?

“Ready, now,” Bert breaks in, oblivious to all the built up tension.

Frank sits at the the soft desk chair and watched the two men work, they both had a strange passion and perfection in their movement, despite both clearly being amateurs. Well, there was a strange aura about Bert, like he knew what he was doing, but couldn’t- no, wouldn’t get it right.

Gerard knew what he was doing… ha, no he didn’t. All he knew was how to pose, even then, that was limited. No one seemed to correct him, so he kept on doing what he was doing, morphing into the next pose at a wave of Bert’s hand. The poses were revealing and whore-ish, but they felt so natural for the inexperienced man. Occasionally, a small moan or whimper would slip, yet it all felt so natural that he didn't have the time or span to feeling embarrassed or ashamed of it. Before he knew it, the shoot was over, and both the men’s photos were being inspected by a hopeful Frank. After a quick change, Gerard joined the two at the table, frank being the only one sitting.

He clasps Gerard’s camera first, looking through the photos, his mouth squishes to one side of his face in focus. “You two are technically supposed to leave, but I’ll let it slide.” He states without looking up.

The two men share a panicked glance, both unaware of this fact. Frank then looks through Bert’s photos with a slightly more excited look in his eye.

He sets the camera down on the table lightly and gives his full attention Bert, “Well, Bert. I must say, your photos are fantastic! The love and energy are practically radiating from the camera, imagine that one a magazine cover of billboard!” he exclaims, letting some of his childish nature shine through.

“Thank you, sir.”

He sheepishly looks at Gerard, “As for you, well… I can feel this kind of thin isn’t what you’re passionate about.”

Of course Gerard was passionate about photography! He’d been snapping pictures his whole life, organizing the scenery was a big part of his love for it. “You can just say you don’t like my work, sir. No need to sugarcoat.”

A dark eyebrow shifts upward from Frank’s eye, “On the contrary, I love you work. Just not the thing you came in for.”

Gerard’s heart stops, his modeling? No, that’s ridiculous, he was hideous. Sure, the clothes made him feel happier, but he still was just as ugly, nothing could change that. “Modeling, sir?”

He nods, “Yes, modeling, and quit with that ‘sir’ crap, we’re close enough for you to call me Frank. Anyway, you seem to show more energy and prowess in these photos over the ones that you took yourself, and they’re remarkable.” he looks at both of them, grinning, “I’m offering both of you positions at my company.”

Since when had Frank been this generous? Normally, he’d go through the applications once more and decide tomorrow, but not today… why? No, he knew why. Gerard. Despite shrugging it off, Frank had still been bothered by the ‘asshole millionaire’ comment. Although, he did have talent, that couldn’t be made up. It seemed like a win-win in his book, proving he was a good person, and earning a new unseen model that knew their way around a camera.

“Well, gentlemen, if you don’t mind, I have to make a few calls for some other possible applicants,” Bert nods and immediately leaves the room. Though, both men still saw the leap of excitement. “If you’ll just wait a minute or two we can continue with our plans from earlier,” Frank whispers to Gerard as he starts dialing numbers into his work cell.

After a couple calls and excited yelling on the other end of the line, Frank had finally called all the applicants he saw potential in, and now was looking happily at Gerard, feeling as though he finally had a friend.

“Right, now, let’s go out again!”

Gerard looks at him worriedly, “Don’t you have work?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s all set up for  _ tomorrow _ , let’s have some fun today before you and Bert get to work.”

Gerard couldn’t deny him, Frank was now his lone source of guaranteed income, and he wasn’t exactly ready to throw away that opportunity.

“Sure, Frank.”

Frank bounces happily and calls up Ray, explaining to him that he “needed to go out undetected again,” to which was responded with ear-splitting yelling This set off all kinds of nerves in Gerard’s system, but once again, he isn’t going to push it.

Once he’d been given the all clear, Frank grabs Gerard’s wrist and pull him out of the audition room and down into the lobby where Gerard had entered previously. After ducking and pleading looks to bystanders, they eventually made it out back onto the streets again, this time, exploring for more restaurants and cafes. Well, mainly Frank, Gerard was more preoccupied with worry over actually be seen with the man than to enjoy their newfound friendship.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my geesus I'm still crying over the show. They're coming to my state and I might not be able to go!!!

“Um, Frank, I really don’t mean to put a damper on this whole experience, but we should really head back.”

The two men had somehow wound up in the middle of a shopping district. Frank had been darting in and out of the small stores with his arms always full of fabric and clothes when returning to Gerard. He’d merely dump his items onto him like some sort of shopping cart and move onto the next place. Now, Gerard has always been a pretty non confrontational person, but the way how Ray had yelled at Frank for leaving with no security haunted him. What would happen to them? Why was Ray so worried?

“Aw, but why?” He whines, arms full of his latest purchases.

“You aren’t supposed to be-” the clothes are dumped into Gerard’s overfilled arms, “-out this long. Besides, what if someone recognizes you?”

Frank giggles, “I already thought of that, that’s why I’m wearing my…” he touches his face, skin going ghostly white as he touches his eyes. “Sunglasses,” he finishes. He feels his torso up, “Oh my god, I even forgot my jacket.” A burning fills his eyes and a lump grows in his throat. “Um, I- Ray’s gonna kill me.”

Gerard sets the pile of clothes on a nearby bench, “Hey, it’s okay.” He rests his hand on Frank quivering shoulder. “We’ll dress you in all that stuff you bought and sneak you back in!”

Frank looks up at Gerard with slightly red eyes, water droplets filling the corners, but despite his dreary look, his smiled. “Thank you, Gerard.”

Gerard awkwardly nods and pulls out a large blue sweater from the bottom of the pile that had caught his eye earlier on. Frank lifts his arms in compliance, slightly stunning the man, who had expected Frank put on the sweater himself. Nonetheless, he pulled he baggy sweater over Frank, the fabric practically drowning him. Gerard scoops up the rest of the clothes, dragging Frank hurriedly back to the building.

A small giggle is barely audible over the busy streets, “It has Mickey Mouse on it.”

Sure enough, when Gerard stopped and turned, Frank’s large hoodie had a faded picture of the original Mickey Mouse design. “Well, you bought it, I thought you knew.”

“Nah, I just buy whatever I feel like.”

Gerard didn’t respond, he envied how easily he could toss away money on all those clothes, even when he didn’t look at them. Instead, he just began pulling Frank along again.

Frank noticed his silence and worried he did something wrong, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.”

Gerard stops in his tracks, “Not everyone is as privileged as you, Frank. Feel free to flaunt your money, you did earn it, but you should be a little more sensitive.”

He continues walking, not waiting to hear whatever Frank’s response was. They hurry into the building with a large group of smartly dressed men and women, most likely here for a meeting with one of the branches in his company. The two break away and slip into the elevator unnoticed.

Once the doors entrap them within the box, Frank bursts out into a fit of giggling, “This is the most funnest day I’ve had in a long time.”

“The most funnest?”

More laughter, “The most funnest.” His laughter slowly dies down and his previous unfaltering smile slips into a frown. “Um, Gerard… do you think I’m a dick?”

“If you’re asking I think you’re a guy, then I’ll have you know those tight pants you were wearing during my shoot weren’t exactly covering anything.” Gerard laughs at his own joke, going slightly red at the remembrance of Frank’s body on display.

“No, look, I’m serious. Do you think I’m an ass?”

Gerard did have another joke at the ready for deflection, but the strain in Frank’s voice let him know it wasn’t the time for that. He softens his tone, “Of course not, Frank.”  
Frank shuffles too one side of the elevator, “You’re only saying that because I’m your boss.”

After hesitantly sliding next to Frank and resting a hand on his shoulder, he murmurs, “I promise you, I’m not. You’re a good person, just misunderstood.”

In reality, that was a lie. What was he going to do, tell his boss that he’s a dick? Gerard found Frank’s petty problems quite a nuisance while he was eating a combination of ramen and energy drinks to keep up with bills. Normally, he’d find sympathy for his situation, but his lack of understanding for the daily struggle just made it too difficult.

Sure, Frank had his charming moments and features, but was also painfully ignorant to how snobbish he was. It was a difficult battle. Gerard knew Frank didn’t mean to come across this way, but still lacked any understanding.

A sniff fills the silent elevator, “Thank you, Gerard.” Frank leans into Gerard comforting hand gratefully. Another sniff, but is hastily covered with a breaking laugh, “I should call you something other than Gerard… like a nickname. Gerard… um, I don’t know, any ideas?”

“My brother used to call me Gee was he was younger.”

“Gee,” Frank tastes the word, “I like it. You’re now Gee to me. Hello, Gee.”

A smile slips onto his face, “Well, hi, Frankie.”

Both the men were in a fit of giggles at this point, they stumble around the elevator, the cart swaying more and more violently. It was all a silly game until a sharp jerk of the elevator halts the fun. They’re thrown to the side, Gerard slamming into Frank as they crash down to the floor. They wrap their arms tightly around each other in pure fear that this moment would be the end.

A woman’s voice through the speakers fill the elevator, disproving their theory of death; “Attention all employees, staff, and guests. This building is on temporary lock down, please refrain from panicking. The situation is under control. It’s best to stay where you are and make sure everyone else in your area does the same. We ask you to keep an eye on the people with you, for we have reason to believe there is a dangerous individual in this building. The police are on their way, please stay put and keep an eye out.”  
A static-y click let’s them know there’s nothing left to say, but the two still remain quiet, the only sound they hear is their own heart thumping loudly in their chest.

Frank breaks the tense silence. “Gee, what’s happening?”

“I think someone got in here, but it’s no one friendly.”

“Can you use the elevator phone to call the front? Just so we can ask what’s going on…” Frank voice quivers at the words, despite clearly trying to sound calm.

Gerard unwraps himself around Frank, slightly embarrassed at his actions, and attempts to stand up and find the phone near the buttons you press for your destination. He’s stopped by a heavy weight around his torso. Frank had not let go of him, and made no move to.

Right when he’s about to pull Frank’s body off him, he catches sight of his face. The gorgeous hazel eyes that normally lit up and made the stars jealous, were now clenched shut with tears peeking out at the corners. The lip ring occasionally clinked against one of his teeth as his lips trembled, holding back the whirlwind of fearful sobs. He compromises and lifts Frank’s body up with him, it’s no easy feat, but he manages.

The elevator lights were knocked slightly out of place, so were dimmer than normal, but Gerard could still see the bleach white phone still clasped in place above the buttons. He grabs it and holds it equal distance between their faces, letting Frank hear what the person on the other line says.

“Excuse me, is someone there?” Gerard whispers into the receiver.

A crackle comes through, the line and a hushed man’s voice comes through, “I’m here, don’t make any sounds. I don’t know where the intruder is.”

“Can you tell us what’s happening?”

There’s muttering and shuffling on the other line, and then silence for a long while. “Some of the security guards saw Mr. Iero being pulled around by an unknown figure, no one knows where they are at the moment though. They’ve been digging through the footage and-” a loud bang sounds through and all three men wince at the sudden noise.

A faint voice is heard on the other side, “This is the police, stay where you are.”

The line goes dead.

Frank’s shaking gets more violent after Gerard puts the phone back in place. Right when he’s going to offer some words of comfort, the elevator shakily starts moving, causing Frank to cling tighter to Gerard, completely ignorant to the obvious misunderstanding. Neither of the two realized why the incident was a misunderstanding until the obvious. The elevator doors slide open to reveal five armed police officers pointing their unlocked guns at the two intertwined figures.

“Sir, please set down Mr. Iero!” A woman’s voice commands.

Gerard follows suit, but Frank still clings to Gerard’s jacket fearfully. “Mr. Iero, let go of the intruder.” Another soothes as he hesitantly slides over to the clearly confused and distressed young man. The officer tried to softly pull Frank out of Gerard’s reach, but he squirms under the touch, suddenly aware of the situation.

“Gerard isn’t an intruder…”

The officers share confused looks. One woman steps forward, “Would you care you tell us who he is then?”

Frank swallows loudly, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest, “He’s one of the people who came to be interviewed for the new openings at my company.”

“Then why did he take you outside without anyone’s knowledge?” She presses.

He knew he’d been cornered. He’d have to tell them that he snuck out and brought Gerard with him. Gerard, a poor soul who is to scared and kind to tell him no. Gerard, the one who comforted him when he nearly bawled his eyes out in public like a small child. Gerard, the one who let him cling to him tightly when he was scared. Gerard, his friend. Now he had to fix his mistake, he had to make sure Gerard stayed out of trouble. The model had done nothing to deserve this.

“It was my fault. I forced him to go outside with me into the city, because I was tired of being surrounded by security and being cooped up in this building,” he admits, his throat tightening.

Three of the officers slowly lower their guns, but the other two remain vigilant. A curly haired officer speaks up, “Well then why did he-”

The man from before cuts in, one of the ones to lower his gun, “Shut it Brian, it was clearly a misunderstanding.”

A clacking of rich shoes cuts in, they turn to corner to reveal a panic-stricken Ray. “Oh my god, Frank!”

At the sound of Frank’s name, a pair of heels bustles around the same corner, Lola. The receptionist. “Frank, you’re okay!” they shriek.

“You two should not be moving around the premises-”

“For the last time Brian, shut the fuck up!”

The two that turned the corner push past the police and tackle frank in a rough hug, breaking his grip on Gerard’s coat. The three embrace and painfully squeeze all life out of each other until breaking free and coming up for air. Gerard attempts to slink away from the clearly private scene but is stopped by a hand roughly gripping his shoulder, the blond officer that was yelling at “Brian” earlier.

“He seems pretty attached to you, I wouldn’t leave right now.”

So, he stays. He watches the reunion as an outsider, he watches all their hysterical crying without a shoulder to lean on and breathe, he just stands there. Mikey couldn’t even be bothered to get lunch with him. Sure, he told Frank Mikey wasn’t anywhere near here, but he was. Gerard had seen Mikey on social media, posting about how he’d be going down to New Jersey for the day for his own interview. He wouldn’t hold it against him, he never did. Each time he cancelled or ignored him was another one of his pre-made excuses to be burned.

‘He had plans.’

‘He was busy.’

‘He was meeting with friends.’

‘I just called him out of the blue.’

All of them, overused and worn. Maybe he was just annoying his brother at this point. He definitely had better things to than be around Gerard. Everyone that talked to him must’ve felt pity. He was practically radiating loneliness and desperation at this point with all the lack of human contact an emotional connections.

A sudden smash into his stomach knocked him out of his spiral, he looks down to see Frank happily clinging to him like he did in the elevator. Gerard wrapped his arms around him back.

Frank didn’t hate him. Not yet at least. Frank had been trying to form an emotional connection as well, but all Gerard had done was complain about his lack of experience with social interaction, when in reality, he was hardly any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus if ya'll can figure out who the blond guy and Brian are :P (hint: from another well-known band)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the poor quality this time around guys. I'll try to bring it back to its normal standard.

“Frank- Boss, you know I really hate to do this, but you  _ do  _ have a meeting… now.”

Frank sighed and let go of Gerard’s mid area. “Which room again?”

“The fifth floor in room B,” Ray recites in less than an instant.

The short man sighs once more and trudges up the couple flights of stairs left to said floor, not wanting to experience another elevator incident, leaving Gerard with the authorities and fellow employees. He’s about to go up one more flight to retrieve his camera from the audition room when a soft cough catches his attention instead.

It’s the frizzy-haired man named Brian, “You’ve left a bunch of… clothes, I believe it is, in the elevator.”

Gerard’s face fwips toward the still open elevator to see the lump of clothing still sitting there after being abandoned in the fear of death. “Thanks!”

Once the gratitude left his mouth though, the doors closed suddenly enough to leave Gerard at a stand-still and whisk away Frank’s purchases. He knew Frank wouldn’t even bat an eye at the lost merchandise, but it bothered Gerard. He didn’t want to be seen as some irresponsible man who had only been employed for the ‘friendship’ he had acquired with the head in charge. Then, he’s running. Running up the stairs to the top floor where they had originally planned to dump the pieces and go back down to the audition room.

His boots thundered up the polished steps as he heaved himself up the many flights. Gerard was never in the best shape. Love handles protruded over the sides of his jeans and heavy skin flaps dangled off any limb in a horizontal position. Maybe this dash up the chair would finally convince him to go on that new diet he’d been wanting to do… Although, holidays were quickly approaching and he knew that after a single family dinner he’d gain all that weight back and stick himself right back at square one.

The building was still foreign to him. The only rooms he’d been inside consisted of the lobby, the men’s restroom for a brief period (before abruptly leaving once a crisp businessman scoffed at his cheap attire), and the audition room. All those rooms were stacked with the highest equipment, technology, and furniture for everyone’s fair use. Easy access to five different types of computers was thrilling and frightening at the same time. It makes him feel out of place and unworthy.

A glossy sliding door is popped open slightly on Gerard’s left as he jogs down the hallway to the last few flights that would lead him to the destination of the clothes, hopefully, they’d still be in the elevator when he arrived, so he could easily scoop them out and put them in the office easily. However, an unknown snarky voice emits from the room, veering his initial route to find himself eavesdropping outside of the door.

“It’s quite unprofessional of you to show up this late,” the same snarky voice jokes.

A voice that Gerard had definitely heard before, but couldn’t recognize, chimes in, “Honestly, you’d think you could at least _ try  _ to not be the rich bastard you are in front of possible partners, at least  _ before _ the contract.”

Laughter fills the room from the joke before a sharp slam on a surface halts the emotion. “None of you have any right to disrespect me in such a way!” A voice roars. “I have earned everything that is here in this room, in this building, and in this company. You’re all lowlife scum who only  _ wish _ to have what I have! I am your superior and will address me like one! This is not a meeting for me to recruit  _ you _ , you’re all here to try and get me to sign off your pathetic company into a launch with my extravagant one.” The voice’s lone laughter fills the silence in the room. What was supposed to be friendly banter had turned into this, a hot-tempered man yelling at other business partners.

Gerard knew that voice. That one was unrecognizable. Why would Frank speak like that to other people?

The second voice in the joke perks up once Frank’s laughter diminished, “We should probably get going then, Iero. If this is how you want to play, then we will not tolerate your unreasonable behavior.” A small thought prodded the back of his head at the slight recognition of the voice, it was driving Gerard insane, but he knew he didn’t need to know.

“Well, good luck trying to find a better partner. The deal you proposed only benefits you if you’ve got a large company at your side, and, sorry to say, I doubt anyone would take the risk from your help.”

More defensive men and women speak up at the lone defense of Frank, who either didn’t have any other consultants in the room or did have some, but they didn’t give any input. Gerard knew he still had to try to grab the clothes but also needed to see Frank’s other half that had shown up now.

“Hey, you!” A voice called as a poofy haired man turned around the corner to face Gerard in the empty hallway, leaning obviously to hear the conversation in the room. “Frank has a lock for his office…” he trails off as he hears the condescending laugh from Frank in the meeting room. Something in the new model’s face must’ve knocked his characteristic standoffishness. “I know… I try to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’s normally like this.” His eyes lock onto Gerard’s. “But he’s been acting differently with you here.”

Gerard wanted to say something to agree with Ray, to give Frank a chance, but he couldn’t. Not after all the mood swings and douchey attitude. This was the confirmation he needed. Frank Iero is a major asshole, even if he can make some decent company, he’s one of the biggest asshole-millionaires out there.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s a great person,” Gerard says with a smile plastered over his complete disagreement.

This seems to slide past Ray, as he merely gave him a and smile in return. Ray clasps Gerard’s hand and passes a keycard between their palms, then leaves with only a small wave.

Gerard didn’t want to stay and watch the other side of Frank, he found it annoying. So, as soon as the fluffy-haired assistant turned the corner, he fled back to his original route with a bit more haste in his step. After a couple more flights of stairs and a mental talk about his ever-increasing weight, he reached the very upper floor with a lone door in front of him. There was a posh waiting room filled with silky couches and two large television screens bolted to the walls. The cost of one could have covered his rent for years.

The grand oak door had a silver smooth slot in the wall a few inches away from neck level, below the slot was a worn keypad that stuck out like a sore thumb in the weathered condition. He tentatively slides the keycard into the slot and waits not even a second until a quiet ‘beep’ noise lets him know the code embedded in the black and white striped bottom has been processed. A soft click of the lock in the door handle releases and the grand oak door props itself open slightly, waiting for the push of an enterer.

With a light shove the door glides open and reveals a monochrome styled room with a single floor tile that costs more than Gerard’s life. There was a glass desk supporting a costly laptop and the walls of the room were lined with bookcases of files and files of god-knows-what. Surely, something as frivolous fashion didn’t need that much space, so what was filling those thick binders and folders?

Gerard left the door open and turned his attention back to the task and hand, the clothes. The elevator was near the staircase’s entrance and when Gerard pressed the open button, the clothes that had been previously scattered when they dropped them in a haste were now neatly folded up in the empty space. A small note on top said ‘from Ray.’ When he flipped open the note, there was more of the same scrawl inside,  _ ‘I sent Frank the brief for tomorrow's shoot, here’s his password, so feel free to take a look.’ _

After placing the clothes in Frank’s office, he closed the door and headed to the pristine computer sat upon the delicate desk. On the first try, he enters the password correctly and is met with dozens of tabs open. After closing some out that he deemed weren’t too important, a little red notification became visible at the bottom of the screen. He clicks on it, assuming it's the email Ray had sent but instead is met with a news article of sorts. It seemed like Frank had a subscription to the site, with all the recommendations that were being presented before him.

This clearly wasn’t what he was supposed to be looking for, but right when he was going to close out, the page had fully loaded and there, in front of his face, was a picture of himself. Gerard was in no way well known. He hadn’t even had his first photoshoot yet. Still, there he was on the front cover of a digital magazine cover. Despite the blurred quality, there was no mistaking that for anyone else.

He scans through the title that read, ‘ **FAMOUS DESIGNER FRANK IERO SPOTTED WITH UNKNOWN COMPANY AT A COFFEE SHOP. COULD THIS BE HIM TAKING HIS LATEST FLING OUT ON A ROMANTIC DATE?** ’ The thought that someone associated him and Frank as something sexually active made his stomach churn, and not in a good way.

A small beep turned Gerard’s attention back to the door, recognizing the noise from when he had entered not even half an hour ago. Then, there stood Frank, clearly startled at the presence of Gerard. His gaze slid from Gerard’s to the computer screen. The mild shock turned into fear as the color drained from his face once he read those big bold letters. He dashed to the computer, knocking Gerard aside and began to read further. A small gasp was heard once he skimmed before Frank pulled up the receiver and began barking orders to some poor soul on the other side.

Only Gerard could hear the same faint beep as the door was unlocked again, this time, Ray came barreling through. At the sight of his assistant, Frank throws back the receiver and commences in a heated conversation. It was an interesting thing to witness. Both were blabbering to each other at the same time but still focused on each other’s words and their own. Eventually, they both stop talking and give each other a nod, then turn to Gerard. Gerard had not been paying attention to what they’d been saying, only on how he himself could fix the situation.

“Be here, tomorrow, at 5 am. You’re going to be prepped and ready for this shoot. It’ll take half the day, then the rest will be with me answering questions to the press. Do you understand?” Frank half questioned and demanded.

Gerard wrinkled his nose in annoyance, “Did you not hear me earlier? I live an hour away from here! You expect me to be on the road by 4 am? Which means I’ll have to wake up by at least 3 am. So, think this over, are you sure you want me here at 5 am?”

Frank puckers his lips and is about to retort when Ray snaps his fingers. “Move out here into the city! Your salary is high enough to get a luxury apartment and fill it with whatever you want. It’ll be more convenient for everyone!”

Gerard looked at the two, hoping for someone to jump out and say ‘Just kidding!’ but all he saw were the two men nodding contently to the other as though they’d just found a cure to cancer.

“Are you fucking serious? Let me repeat this back to you, you want me to drop everything and change my whole life just so you can get more money?”

Ray furrowed his brow, “No, I just meant-”

This time it’s Frank who cuts off Ray, “You were saying back at the coffee shop that you didn’t really talk to anyone. That the only family you had was your brother, but he doesn’t talk to you. I think it’s a perfect opportunity! You’ll get a fresh start, better living conditions, and you can just make friends here at work!”

This made a lot of sense, but Gerard was no pushover. “Let me think about it at least.”

Ray eagerly nodded, slapping a hand in front of Frank’s mouth about to spew protests. “That’s fine! Hell, I’ll rent you a hotel or something nearby just so you can be here on time. Is that okay?”

The offer was too good to pass up, no matter how much Gerard hated handouts. They all agreed that he’d stay in a classy hotel that was only a couple blocks away. Ray made the reservations and gave Gerard money for a cab, despite his reassurances that he could drive.

“Just leave the car here. It’ll be easier for parking if you just take a cab.”

Once all the reservations had been set, Gerard was escorted down the stairs and outside onto the sidewalk by Frank, only after Frank bundled back up in his camouflage and convinced Ray he’d be careful, of course. With a few unsuccessful attempts to haul one of the bright yellow cars, one eventually spotted the odd men and pulled over. Frank stood by as Gerard struggled with the dented door, once he’d pried it open, he slipped into the backseat. Before he could close the door however, Frank leaned in with a look of recognition.

“Did I tell you tomorrow's theme?” Gerard shook his head, slightly uncomfortable at the close proximity of frank’s face to his. “Tomorrow is sexy casual wear. When the shoot is over, Ray’s gonna call up some magazine companies and have them send reporters down to interview me when you and I walk out of the building. That way, we’ll explain what happened and make it look like it’s not staged.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m going to be wearing sexy clothes in front of all those people with cameras?!”

Frank blinked down in confusion, “Yeah, that’s literally your job.”

Before Gerard has any time to negotiate the terms, Frank slaps the door shut roughly and bangs on the roof of the cab to drive off. The driver grumbles at Frank’s rough behavior with the car but still speeds off anyway, leaving the radio off and Gerard in the back with only silence to think about the events of today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. I GOT MCR TICKETS. I'M CRYING.


End file.
